


have heart, my dear

by jenhyung



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Drabble, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 08:15:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18116876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenhyung/pseuds/jenhyung
Summary: Doyoung runs. - Taeyong/Doyoung (College!AU)





	have heart, my dear

**Author's Note:**

> (written really quickly, please don't read too much into it/expect too much!)

Taeyong nearly flies down the last flight of stairs, book bag hitting hard against the stone walls as he pushes through a crowd, desperate to find the exit. It is pitiable that he’s squashed left and right, but he makes it anyway, bursting into the hall in a frenzied motion, glancing down it in hopes of spotting a head of black hair.

And of course, he does see him – head ducked low, hurrying out the end of the hallway and out onto the quad.

Taeyong doesn’t care that he left Youngho’s advice, telling him to _Just give him a moment to breathe, Yong!_ and that Yuta was right there too, midway through a protein bar to be offering any sort of advice. The three of them had been camping out in the library, helping Youngho with one of his final year projects when it came to a damaging halt – a mutual friend of theirs had come by, bearing flowers and chocolate for White Day.

At first, they’d thought they were for Youngho – the person he first approached – but it’s through his stuttering confession that they find it’s for Taeyong instead. He accepted the gifts – the third time today – not really knowing how to say _no, thank you_ , in such a public setting, but it’s accepted with utmost regret the moment he hears a hard disk clatter to the floor.

“Doyoung!”

The boy speeds up, a true testament to Doyoung’s stupidly long legs, hard disk gripped tight in a clammy hand; Taeyong pushes past a few lost-looking freshmen to chase after his boyfriend of almost five months.

“Wait, just – ” Taeyong falls forward in an attempt to stop Doyoung from walking off, hands falling to grab tightly around the other’s forearm. Doyoung doesn’t stop walking, face turned away as he tries to shake Taeyong off, “Doyoung, just – it’s not what you think – ”

“Let go of me,” Doyoung snaps, yanking his arm away. Taeyong ignores the judging stares from onlookers, but he lets go of Doyoung, trailing after him until they’re standing in a hidden hallway in Building 23. Doyoung stops, as if he’s suddenly aware that Taeyong isn’t going to leave him just like this.

Taeyong wastes no time, “I didn’t say _yes_ to him or anything, Doyoung – he showed up a few seconds before you did, there wasn’t anything – ”

Even in the dark, Doyoung’s incredulity shines. Taeyong clamps his mouth shut when Doyoung rolls his eyes, lips in a tight line. He glares resentfully at the ground, avoiding Taeyong’s eyes. Taeyong folds his arms across his chest, knowing full well that saying more would just irritate Doyoung, but – why is Doyoung making such a big _deal_ out of this? They spent Valentine’s Day together – they spend every _weekend_ together.

Eventually, Doyoung breaks the cold war of silence and uncomfortable fidgeting. Shortly, he announces, “I have class.”

“Doyoung.” Taeyong says his name like a plea, exasperation evident, “Just – don’t be jealous, okay, it meant – ”

“I have _class_.”

“I _know_ ,” Taeyong grits out. Doyoung stays anyway, standing under the pathetic single light of this deserted hallway. “God, Doyoung,” he sighs, heart ricocheting off the walls in his chest. He knows Doyoung, he knows the thoughts in his mind. “Why are you like this?”

Doyoung recoils as if he’d been struck. “I don’t _know_ ,” he bites, “Why _am_ I like this?”

Taeyong stuns at the hostility, arms falling to the sides.

“Why don’t you tell me?” Doyoung challenges fiercely. His expression remains adamant, and he straightens, shoulders tightening to take advantage of those inches he can tower over Taeyong. Doyoung’s fist curl into the hem of his pullover, positively radiating anger.

But his eyes.

Taeyong has been watching Doyoung for a good half of his life. Even though it isn’t the feature that has Taeyong’s insides all jumbled up, in that time, it’s an embarrassing number of hours that he’s spent falling in love with Doyoung’s eyes.

They’re glassy, shining over-bright and almost painful for Taeyong to see. They shake under Taeyong’s scrutiny, and it’s not even a second later that they start to brim with wet tears, fueled probably by unneeded malice and frustration.

His eyes always give him away.

“I love you,” Taeyong whispers. Doyoung goes still, clearly expecting Taeyong to get angry at him. To get angry for being so immature, for acting like their love is unsteady, for blowing things out of proportion. Silence fills the space between them, and when Taeyong is sure Doyoung isn’t going to bolt right back out onto the courtyard, he steps forward, palm over Doyoung’s heart, “I love you.”

Doyoung stands his ground on silence.

“I love you, so just – don’t get jealous anymore,” Taeyong tells him. He picks at a piece of lint off Doyoung, “I don’t – I hate it when you get bothered over something like this, especially when it means nothing.”

Doyoung steps away, “You don’t understand – ”

Taeyong covers it, “Then explain it to me.” Standing this close, Doyoung’s cologne and that mix with the smell of his skin; Taeyong’d be lying outright if he didn’t admit it makes him dizzy, “I’m telling you that none of the confessions I get bother me, Doyoung. The only confession I care about is yours.”

“That can’t – you – ”

“I’m telling you I love you,” Taeyong says indignantly. He smooths his palms across Doyoung’s chest to pull him into a hug, resting his cheek to Doyoung’s collarbone. “Why won’t you believe me?”

“I believe you, I just – ” Taeyong rallies triumph when Doyoung shifts, hands low on Taeyong’s hip. As much as he flattered at the fact Doyoung personally took every single confession he received seriously, Taeyong wishes with his heart that he wouldn’t. He knows how toxic those thoughts can get, he doesn’t want any of it in Doyoung’s mind. “It’s just – hard.”

Taeyong squeezes him tight, “Sorry.” He turns to bury his nose into Doyoung’s chest, words muffled, “If it helps, I get jealous over you too.”

“That’s different,” Doyoung scoffs, knocking his chin against Taeyong’s crown.

“Hypocrite,” Taeyong accuses. He pinches Doyoung’s side, letting go only when the younger boy squirmed, “Don’t you have that one freshman that’s been following you around all year?”

Doyoung splutters, “But he’s just – ”

“Doesn’t he buy you lunch every Wednesday? Or when I’m at studio classes?” Taeyong huffs, “He’s always around when I’m not, isn’t that more than just a confession? And he’s always talking about the weekend trips he wants to take, it’s really a matter of time before he drags you away from me.”

“That’s not – ”

“ _And_ ,” Taeyong barrels on. “He’s always coming by the café when you’re working, and he just sits there for hours! And it’s not like you can ignore him, but I still haven’t forgiven you for ignoring my order to bring him a slice of cake you _made_.”

Doyoung unglues Taeyong from him, face shadowed with so much _guilt_ that Taeyong has to bite on his lip to keep from smiling. Doyoung frowns, “I didn’t know, I’m – I’ll tell him to back off – ”

“I’m just kidding,” Taeyong laughs, tugging on Doyoung’s sweatshirt playfully. Doyoung sighs loudly, and Taeyong apologizes, “It doesn’t bother me at all, baby, I know you love me and I love you. I don’t care if he’s running around after you like a puppy.” He kisses Doyoung lightly, “You love me.”

Doyoung’s purses his lips, “And how would you know that?”

Taeyong shrugs, “I just do.”

And he does. Even if it took them three years of fumbling around to get to where they are, even if it took them two awkward dates and a failed one to pass the lines of _just being friends_ , even if there are hundreds of obstacles they have to hurdle over together – Taeyong knows they’ll get through it, and that they’ll get through it together.

“I’m not saying you can’t get jealous,” Taeyong tacks on. He needed Doyoung to know, “I’m just saying that at the end of the day, I chose you and you chose me.” Doyoung’s lower lip juts out, so naturally, Taeyong kisses it softly, “I get jealous too, you know?”

Doyoung snorts.

“Well, I _do_.” Taeyong says, “But it all goes away when I see you.”

For a long moment, Doyoung just stares. Stares at Taeyong like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, what he’s seeing – but Taeyong doesn’t say anything. Sometimes, he finds it hard to believe he’s got Doyoung like this too.

“Promise me,” Taeyong murmurs, smiling when his voice cracks Doyoung out his haze. He gives a half-suppressed laugh, loving the way Doyoung starts to smile too, his smile – the thing that makes Taeyong’s insides run _wild_ – so sweet and just absolutely endearing. “Promise you’ll remember that I love you.”

Doyoung draws back, “I promise.”

“And I’ll tell you every day,” Taeyong hums, already taken by Doyoung’s smile.

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Taeyong agrees. He pulls Doyoung close, heart ready to surrender itself to him, “Now – tell me you love me too.”

Doyoung kisses him, and against his lips, he confesses, “I love you.”

 

 

And that really _is_ the only confession Taeyong will ever care about.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> shucked this out in an hour for my [ccat](https://twitter.com/jenhyungs/status/1106382130597294085) anon! i hope you like it ;; i honestly didn't expect this 'paragraph' to get this long, but i also wrote it on a whim so i'm sorry for any mistakes and the lack of quality ;;


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